A Love, Darkly
Alice gave me a furtive glance as she handed me a glass of lemonade. She was nervous. I could sense a slight tremble in her voice as she offered a drink to Darcy. As usual, he was oblivious.
“A drink, Honey? How’s the wall coming along?” she asked.
My best friend took the sweet juice and downed it in one shot. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt then answered our favorite redhead. “We’re almost done, just a few more bricks.”
Darcy took pride in his projects. Whether at work or at home, he threw himself in. Nothing was left to chance. Every detail accounted for. The basement renovation was no exception. The dry storage partition was the last step, and he was particular about his choice of cinderblock.
“One more bucket of mortar to mix, Bobby. I’ll do that while you sweep out the room one last time. Alice, sweetheart, can you give him a hand?”
We’d been friends since we were in junior high when we rode bikes and played hockey together. The one thing we never did was compete for girls. It wasn’t really a problem anyway. The outgoing one of the pair, I always lucked out, but could never keep a relationship for long. Darcy the strikeout king, made the perfect wingman. After college, we grew up. I married and divorced while Darcy struggled. Part of me always thought him jealous of me; if he only knew.
I held out my hand to help Alice step into the small space. Her touch was electric. It took everything I could muster not to kiss her and hold her close, to Hell with the consequences. She held the flashlight while I swept the room. We worked in tense silence as we waited for Darcy to return, each alone with our thoughts.
I was genuinely happy when he found Alice. She was beautiful and smart, and my friend could finally be happy. But, nothing lasts forever. Darcy worked too hard, leaving Alice alone and lonely. It was easy for me to love her and steal two years of forbidden passion. It’s crazy, but with her, I found my own peace.
Neither of us expected to be faced with the barrel of a shotgun.
Darcy didn’t mince words. “You’re supposed to be my friend, Bobby. Alice is my wife.”
I was at a loss for words and ashamed for all three of us. My stomach sank and my head swam.
“Darcy, please. Don’t do this,” Alice whimpered with tears streaking her dusty cheeks.
“I love you.” That’s all he said to her. I don’t think he possessed words for anything more. He turned to me. His voice was level and monotone, a forced steely detachment. “You win. You always do. She’s yours now, forever. Fill it in, Bobby.”
I stared at the end of the double barrels for a brief moment and then met Darcy’s gaze. All I saw was doom. I felt Alice’s presence at my side. “No, Darcy. No,” she pleaded to deaf ears.
Quick-drying cement has a unique odour. Time raced faster than I could fathom as I set the blocks in the mortar. It wasn’t long before the only sound was our own panicked breathing. The job was finished. Alice and I held hands as the batteries of her flashlight winked out. The darkness swallowed us.
I let the curtain slide closed as I watched Darcy’s car turn the corner. He’d be at the hardware store a good while, picking out the perfect kind of material to finish the damnable wall downstairs. I begrudgingly agreed to help him with yet another project. He practically begged me. It was unnecessary, of course. I’d do anything to spend time at his house, even if it meant working in stifling heat through the dead of night.
I figured he’d be gone at least an hour. Good. I turned to look at Alice and smiled.
She leaned against the doorframe separating the living room from the hallway. The sun sat low enough in the sky to cast her in silhouette, the shape of her body visible through the thin shift she wore. My God, she was beautiful. Even after all this time, I still became giddy and light-headed whenever I was near her. The air was close, despite every window being open. There was no breeze to spirit away the veil of sweat making her glisten. She smelled slightly of vanilla. I would always be lost to her spell.
Alice smiled back at me as she clicked and clacked on her phone. I talked her into signing up for Twitter a couple of weeks ago. Darcy didn’t know. It was one of those things only she and I shared.
“I love you, Alice,” I said, as I continued to study her, absorbing her presence.
She set the phone on the coffee table, slowly walked over and traced the back of her fingers along the side of my face to the tip of my chin. My heart skipped as she rose on her toes and whispered. “I love you, too.” Her lips were soft and warm, familiar and enticing.
There was a buzz and musical bleep from across the room. “I thought you saved all your tweets for me,” I teased.
“I was being stalked by cats on the Internet. I just had to stalk them back,” she said as she moved to check her new vice. I watched her bemusedly. Clickety-clack. Clackity-click. Alice blanched and froze. “Bobby,” she gasped softly.
She handed the phone to me. It was probably a tweet from some random spambot feline. There wasn’t any text, only a link to a picture. It was a photo of Alice and I caught in an embrace, in this very house. We were getting careless.
“What if it’s Darcy? Do you think he knows?” Alice asked, her eyes dancing with worry.
I did my best to reassure her and shook my head. “He can barely operate the television remote, Sweetheart. This is someone else.”
“Who? The mailman?” Her sharp tone affected me. It wounded me.
“Maybe it’s your sister, her way of telling us to be a little more discrete.” It was as plausible a reason as any. That was Jane’s MO, and it drove Alice nuts. Thinking it could be Darcy was awful, and it made my stomach sick with guilt. The man was my best friend, but my soul was bound to hers.
“I don’t want us to be a secret anymore, Bobby. I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
I didn’t want to answer her. We both felt things were reaching a head. Something needed to end soon, it was too much to bear. I couldn’t continue to share her. It was as simple and as complex as that.
I deleted the tweet and dropped the phone back on the table. Gathering Alice up in my arms, I held her close, kissing the top of her head and then her neck. She sighed a lustful purr as she gave herself to me. We rocked gently together in silence, intoxicated by the stolen moments.
Our reverie was interrupted when we saw blades of reflected light pass over the room as Darcy pulled up. The sun hid behind clouds as the waning light took on a deep orange pallor. It would be dark soon.
Alice pressed her hands against my chest. She was shaking. “He’s back,” she said. Those two words were full of sadness and longing. I knew them well.
“Damn it all to Hell.” I gave her one last kiss, deep and long. Time was always too short. I wouldn’t let her go. I couldn’t.
She broke our embrace and tried to steady her voice. “Go help him bring the stuff in, it’s hot. I’ll make some lemonade.”
Alice headed to the kitchen, and I watched her disappear around the corner. She was, at that moment, an apparition, a mirage of the heart. There were too many things between us. We were acting like teenagers. It wasn’t fair to Darcy, but damn him. Alice was no more his, than she was mine. Alice belonged to Alice. I think what hurt the most was she still loved him. She wouldn’t give him up, and I wouldn’t either. Darcy’s my friend, my best friend, and he deserved a better one in me.
I was suddenly angry with him. I wanted to walk out the door to his car, grab him by the throat and tear it apart. The picture of his ruined, lifeless face stood vividly in my mind, as did the sanguine elation of satisfaction accompanying the effort. Then I pivoted my mind’s eye and saw Alice’s broken heart. The fury left. All that remained was the crippling guilt. I went outside to help Darcy carry the materials from the car.
“Hey, Bobby.” Darcy’s face was a sea of sweat even though there was only a sliver of daylight left. It was even muggier outside.
The tall poplars out front were heavy with hundreds of starlings, chattering and chortling in a noisy flourish. It was as if they were deliberating and judging the devices of human frailty. There was no shortage of it to consider. A large blackbird, probably a crow or raven, landed on the streetlight opposite the feathered assembly. With one bleating caw, the convention disbanded and scattered skyward, meeting adjourned. The lone bird remained, presiding over his domain.
I nodded and gave a weak smile to my friend as I grabbed an armload of cinderblocks. “Alice is inside. It’s a little cooler. She said something about fresh lemonade for later.”
Darcy grabbed the pail of quick-dry mortar and the new trowel. We went inside and down to the basement. I setup the fans while he strung the lights and suddenly felt anxious to get this job done. It was too hard for Alice with such closeness, so she left us to our work. We heard Billie Holiday’s haunting melodies floating from upstairs, filling the air, making the dust dance in the beams of lamplight. The music was charged and beautiful. It kept Darcy and I lost in our thoughts as we worked away. We were building a wall, maybe more than one.
I thought about the first time I saw Alice five years ago. Darcy was excited for me to meet her, and I was glad he finally met someone. In between relationships myself, and feeling down, it was my selfish delight when Alice’s sister, Jane, joined us. In a twisted turn of fortune, my wingman managed to setup a double-date. I remember staring at him with awe and suspicion as we pulled in to pick up the ladies. He grinned widely, thoroughly pleased with himself.
“Bobby, this is Jane,” beamed Darcy as he introduced me to my date. Jane was indeed a vision, dark-hair and a pretty green dress. Then I saw Alice. She was every bit the woman as Jane in a deep-blue print with short-cropped copper hair. The girls together were captivating. I stared like a fool. Darcy brought me out of my stupor as he pecked Alice on the cheek. “Hello, Sweetheart,” he said. A spark of jealousy licked my heart before I turned my attention to Jane.
“Pleased to meet you, Jane,” I said while I took her hand and made a gallant show as I bowed and kissed it. It was Darcy’s time to shine, and my turn to play wing. The evening went exceedingly well and continued that way for almost a year; Darcy and Alice, me and Jane. Now Jane was all in, but I only went through the motions. I simply didn’t love her. A part of me resented Jane and Darcy. I couldn’t recognize it at the time, but it was always about Alice. Jane knew this too. We always talked around it with unspoken accusations. It didn’t end well for us, and things were never the same between the girls. I never told Darcy the rotten truth of it all. Jane blamed Alice for my failings. She hated her for it.
Oh God. Jane. What have you done?
I used to be afraid of the dark when I was a kid. I would sleep with a night light. Even as I got older, I always kept a flashlight in the night stand. I would be comforted by the glow of the alarm clock, breaking the night with its bright red digits. These days, my phone served the purpose. It kept silent vigil over me as I slept, lifting the curtain of night with ease.
I had no such guardian now. This was the pure dark of my fears. As the realization of our predicament washed over me, I felt the familiar rise of panic. I was the helpless eight-year-old all over again. The air was thickly hot with dust and sweat. The room was designed to be airtight. We wouldn’t last long.
Alice’s fingers laced mine, not tightly, but not nearly ready to be freed either. She was scared too. “We’re going to die in here, Bobby,” she said quietly. It was neither question nor plea, only a bare observation.
I didn’t dispute her. “Yeah,” I said. What else was there to say that wasn’t a lie? I reached to touch her face with my free hand. I didn’t need to see to light the image. I knew every inch of her by memory, the curve of her nose, the fine hair of her neck’s nape, the softness of her mouth and the swell of her breasts. She shivered as I brushed her lips with my fingertips.
She let me go and backed away. I couldn’t tell where she was. Even when she spoke, it was impossible to orient her in the room. “I called Jane,” she said.
“When?” I asked. Oh god.
“About an hour ago, while you two were down here. We argued.”
The music. “We didn’t hear you.”
“That was the point, Bobby. She sent the tweet. She’s here, in the house, somewhere. “
“Jane’s a part of this with Darcy, isn’t she?”
“Oh, Bobby, she’s still so angry. She went on and on about how I stole you from her, about how much prettier I was than her, and that I always got the good ones while she was left alone. She said I was greedy, selfish, and wanted both of you for myself.” Alice stopped. I reached for her in the murky dark, my arms swinging slowly, finding no purchase. I felt like I was going to fall. My hands scraped the fresh cinderblock.
“Alice?” No response. I could hear her breathing in the hitching way of silent tears. “Alice?”
“Why did you choose me over Jane?” Her voice was low and even.
“I can’t explain it. It was always you. When I kissed Jane, it was you I kissed. When we made love, it was you. It was always supposed to be you. When Jane left me after the big fight, I felt free, but needed to leave and escape. Darcy was so happy and smitten with you. I knew I wasn’t strong enough.”
“Why didn’t you, Bobby? Why didn’t you leave me and Darcy be?”
“I don’t know. He took you for granted, Alice. He wasn’t right for you. Maybe I wanted to blame it on him, but that’s not really fair, is it? The truth is I’m in love with you, my best-friend’s wife. I’d do anything to be with you.”
I could sense Alice in front of me and she said, “Jane’s crazed now. She’s never let you go and never forgiven me.”
“This is so screwed up.” I found her hand and brought it to my face. Were Jane and Darcy any crazier than us? What made this okay?
“I think she aimed to punish us. She said she told Darcy we had to pay. I didn’t see this coming. I love Darcy, but I don’t really know him at all, not like you.” Alice drew away again, not as far.
I wondered how long Darcy really knew about us. This took a lot of planning. Did Jane confirm what he denied? The mist lifted, exposing four flawed souls and their pack of lies. I became light-headed. The air wasn’t fresh from the start. It smelled foul and tasted of guilt and death. I saw the loneliness in the dark light and lost myself to it. I caught my body falling and sat on the cool concrete floor.
Then she was beside me, always beside me. Alice and I held each other tight. We faced the forever black together. This was our tomb. We deserved each other.
The nausea passed, but the lack of oxygen made me sleepy. Alice passed out. I felt her chest move slightly as her breathing grew shallower. I couldn’t tell if my own eyes were open or closed. All I saw was gray. It probably didn’t matter anyway. My legs felt like weights under water. My arms stopped tingling a while ago. I waited for Death to make its claim.
Scraping and banging, a shaft of light then a rush of cool fresh air. My brain was sluggish. I didn’t understand what was happening as Darcy helped me out of the room. I couldn’t stand, let alone walk.
“Alice,” I said.
“Jane’s got her,” he said. I turned and saw her struggle to lift her sister. Darcy went over and picked her up easily. Alice’s arms wrapped around Darcy’s neck. She was alive, but barely. He carried her upstairs. I managed to get to my feet and followed them on shaky legs. No one spoke.
They gave us water and waited. We waited in silence. Alice started to come around. “Darcy, I’m sorry,” she began, weak and gravelly.
“Don’t,” cut off Darcy. His voice was quiet and firm, his eyes a dull flame quelling an endless rage. The emotions of the room were a tempest of shame, bitterness and anger. The potential for fury filled the air. We were at the precipice facing the void, facing the black. A single word was all it would take to topple this truce. Time froze as we regarded each other, unsure of what to do next.
Jane broke the moment, ending the impasse. “Darcy, let’s go.” He nodded and took one last long look at me, then Alice. He kissed her. Then my one-time best friend followed my lover’s sister through the front door and out of our lives.
I was uncertain how much strength and love Alice and I shared to pick up the pieces. I knew we were damned, perhaps from the very beginning.